YEET
How Harry looks in the entire story ^^
*Mentions of slight suicidal thoughts
Harry woke up to yet another stiff back. He slowly rose up, wincing at the pain shooting through his spine. One would think he would be use to it by now since he's dealt with this since he was fifteen, but somehow he hasn't.
He twists his back, immediately hearing his bones pop from the aching action. He sighs, standing up but not fully with the limited space he has. He's in this, old tiny tree house he found a few years back. He felt blessed when he stumbled upon it, making it his own for over three years.
It isn't much to normal standards of living. Always having to crouch down when he's inside because of how tall he is. Built for small children he assumed. But he couldn't complain, it gave him a place to sleep and that's all he needed. It was way better than sleeping on the streets, safer. Something Harry didn't want to do ever again.
He grabbed his tattered backpack, slinging it on as he carefully climbed down the somewhat stable ladder. There's one thing that he benefits from sleeping in an abandoned tree house and it's the view. It's the hidden meadow of flowers he goes in to makes his flowercrowns.
Once his feet were planted on the ground, he immediately lays down. He sighs contently, always at peace when he's surrounded by beautiful flowers.
He lays there thinking about things that make him happy. He always tries or more like forces himself to think positively. To find some sort of silver lining and hold onto it. Something to distract himself from the realitly of his life.
There wasn't much to think about as he frowned, twirling a flower between his pointer finger and thumb. Analyzing the beauty it carried and how nothing could ever compare to such standards. Not many things turn out good in Harry's life.
It's funny how people think Harry is happy. One look at him and you would never expect him to be 'broken.' Or someone who has experienced a lifetime of pain and heartache.
He's glad that they do, he wants people to think he's happy. It's easier to pretend that you are instead of explaining to others why you're not constantly.
And how do you tell people you're homeless anyways? It's not easy for Harry to tell others without people either pitying him or being disgusted. Homeless people are seen as dirty, lazy, useless and the list can go on. He's ashamed and he just rather not say anything.
So he puts on a fake smile each day despite how sad he is and goes on with his day. Because that's all Harry can do really. He fools others everyday and sometimes he even fools himself. He pretends to be happy so much that he starts believing it himself.
That is until reality hits him when he's alone and everything comes crashing back to him. Most times he cries until he physical can't at the end of each night. Shallow breathing, blurry vision flooded with tears and heart rate beating incredibly fast.
One day he hopes to wake up happy.
Other times he hopes to not wake up at all and end everything.
He's never considered ending his life before, only played with the idea. Thankfully it hasn't come to that point but he also wouldn't care if he died today.
There's no one that would truly miss him he thinks if he did commit. Maybe a few people would be sad for a while if they noticed. But he knows they would quickly move on. He would just be another homeless person gone and away with. Nobody cares if they die anyways.
He sighed, deciding to sit up because he didn't like his thoughts. He needed to distract himself so he gathered flowers. They were very small and pink and he found them absolutely adorable. He gently braided them, careful not to rip the stem. He started singing a song he heard Demi playing a few days ago. The song immediately stuck to him.
